Meanwhile In Soviet Russia
by JoyHeart
Summary: Prizefic for invisiblecanada as my 100th review on my manualfic. My prompt was for a RussiaXAmerica Cold War crackfic rated T. Well, it's certainly cracky if nothing else...


**Meanwhile In Soviet Russia**

_((Invisiblecanada is my 100__th__ reviewer on I Ordered Russia Online, and therefore receives this one shot of America X Russia during the cold war. It is to be rated T. It's a crackfic too so expect… odd things… phht, I never tried a cold war fic before so I think I leaned too hard on the crack factor. WHATEVER.))_

America was visiting the Soviet Union in order to meet with Russia. The reason was a common one- mostly to argue over their differing viewpoints of government as well as over their stashes of atomic bombs and trying not to be provoked into making the first move in this cold war. France had declared these arguments to be the biggest case of sexual tension between nations since the battles between Rome and the Germanic tribes of yore and that the only logical ends to this fight was either for them to destroy each other or else fuck each other senseless.

America's common response when this was brought up was that France should shut his surrender monkey mouth. He was never a good one when it came to coming up with witty replies as he was constantly reminded of during his encounters with Russia. Clever insult after clever insult was flung at America, with detailed reasons why he was despised and abhorred so much by the large nation. In reply, thus far, all America could say in response was '_Red Commie Bastard_!' before flipping him off and glaring up a storm to the Russian's amusement. America couldn't help that he wasn't very good at verbal parley; he preferred actions to words anyway and didn't deserve to be laughed at! Russia usually preferred actions too; he only switched his strategy for America because he knew how much it angered him to be outsmarted by a 'Commie' so to speak. So far America had detested every meeting with Russia they'd had.

However on this particular trip to visit Russia, America was feeling rather giddy. The reason for this was that he had discovered a new method of insulting Russia. What was better, it was hilarious! It was so hilarious that he didn't even understand why most of the time! It was just that good.

And of course the insult was what he had dubbed the 'In Soviet Russia' joke. Or, well, someone dubbed it that, but they were probably American so it counted as him too! And even if they weren't American they were probably supposed to have been born American because they showed true American spirit and ingenuity to come up with something so amazing! But of course to be ready to use it to full capacity for his enemy, America was sure to practice it over and over on the plane ride.

"In Soviet Russia, cars drive YOU! In Soviet Russia, cheques mail YOU! In Soviet Russia, trees plant YOU!" America giggled under his breath in his seat. What was Iggy talking about, saying the American didn't understand how this joke worked? It was obvious, everything was backwards in Russia! So it was funny! "In Soviet Russia, food eats YOU!"

Needless to say, the other passengers around him, particularly the harassed looking man in the aisle seat next to him, were under the impression that America was completely insane and likely dangerous. They were correct to assume as much.

Upon landing in Moscow, America was greeted by the usual armoured car that would take him to Russia's house. It was another reason he didn't like visiting Russia for these meetings- just the ride there was filled with foreboding. If America had any less super strength than he did he would've been completely flanked with bodyguards. As it was, people were still trying to retain some semblance of peace so he was left on his own. Just as well really, if he was around his own people as opposed to Russia's right then he would likely have continued his 'practicing' and would have likely offended someone. As it was, even America knew to shut up when surrounded by 'the enemy'.

When they finally arrived at Russia's impressive mansion, America denied the escort to the door. Instead he strutted up with all the obnoxiousness he could mutter and hammered on the door, blissfully ignorant of the disapproving glares of the Russian soldiers that had taken him to their nation's personal home.

"RUSSIA! YO RUSSIA! OPEN UP FOR THE HERO!" America screamed. Light shuffling was heard behind the door and it opened to reveal the shaking Lithuania, dark circles predominant under his eyes.

"Oh, Mr. America, we've been expecting you," Lithuania said with a weak smile, quietly suppressing a yawn. What America didn't know is that since he had not given a definite time of arrive other than saying 'sometime this week', Lithuania had been made to stand at the door for the past three days with minimal food and rest, replaced with Estonia for exactly six hours every night. However Russia really hoped that America would arrive when Lithuania was able to open the door for him, since he looked the best in a maid's dress.

Yes, Lithuania had answered the door in his maid's dress.

But America wasn't focused on that. In fact, despite Lithuania's prior worries, America didn't notice that his friend of several years was dressed in anything out of the ordinary at all. He was much more focused on thinking '_In Soviet Russia, doors open you!_' than on anything around him. Never mind that, if this statement were true, the door would not have in fact opened then and something much more grotesque would have occurred. It was a joke! It was funny! So America broke into his usually insane, boisterous laughter and Lithuania was left wondering if jet lag had affected his former boss.

Once Lithuania had succeeded in shutting the door, Latvia appeared from seeming nowhere to lead America to the living room where Russia would meet with him. In reality Latvia had for days been collared with a special device made out of an electric dog collar that would buzz into painful life whenever the door opened, or when anyone made a loud noise, so that he would know to rush to the front door as quickly as possible when America arrived. Russia liked to show proper hospitality after all. Also, the collar went rather well with the little puppy dog ears he'd recently acquired for the youngest Baltic to wear. He looked so cute! Unfortunately, America once again didn't notice this trait of his young guide, nor did he notice the painful looks he made whenever the American spoke in his obnoxiously loud voice. But then, that was America, he couldn't read the mood if his- or anyone else's- life depended on it.

"H-Here we are, M-Mr. America..." Latvia stammered as he brought America into the living room and gestured for him to sit on the sofa. America did so with a goofy, self-satisfied grin. He made sure to put his snow covered shoes up on Russia's coffee table too, just to show how much he wanted to annoy the guy.

Unfortunately it seemed that Russia was running a bit late, here meaning that he had slipped out to have a quick bottle of vodka and by the time he had returned he was faced with a terrified Estonia hesitantly informing him that America had been sitting in his living room, gradually destroying items around him (such as the coffee table incident and picking fibres out of the throw pillows) for approximately two hours. Russia took the news that he had not been informed immediately (despite having been somewhere that he could not be reached at the time) rather well. He only knocked the bespectacled Estonian unconscious and left him on the floor before striding with the poise of the greatest ballet dancer into the living room.

"Privyet American Pig!" Russia said in his most cheerful voice, even though a dark aura surrounded his person. He couldn't help it, the mere presence of the other nation brought it out in waves. Not that the idiot ever noticed, not being one to read the mood. He did understand insults though of course and liked to return them in kind when he could.

"Yo, Commie! In Soviet Russia visitors greet you! HA HA HA!" America laughed and grinned as Russia cocked his head to one side in mild confusion.

"Uh?" Russia was used to stupid statements from America, but this one was just kind of weird. Visitors do technically greet you while you greet them... Russia sat opposite his unwanted guest.

"In Soviet Russia, chairs sit on you! HA HA HA!" America giggled wildly, confusing the Russian further.

"Um... no they do not... you are feeling okay, da?" Russia asked with slight concern. Not for America's wellbeing of course, merely expressing his worry that if America had finally lost his mind he would be doing so in the Russian's living room and that could cause some structural damage to the rest of the house if someone got flung into a wall hard enough.

"They so do! Oh, but of course you wouldn't get it because in Soviet Russia, jokes tell you!"

America's next round of laughter was accompanied by a sneer and at this point Russia began to suspect that his space race rival was trying to insult him. Failing miserably as far as the target of the insults was concerned, but trying none the less. Best to put a stop to this now and change the subject or the American would simply embarrass himself. He was rather good at doing that, but Russia preferred being the one to make the blonde man look stupid and it was hard to do that when he did it on his own.

"America, we are here to discuss our-"

"In Soviet Russia, trees hug you!"

Russia stopped and blinked. "Uh?"

America sighed and rolled his eyes. "As opposed to hugging trees!"

"... do you often hug trees in your home?"

America shrugged. "Er, not really, but those tree huggers do!"

"Um, America, do you think you are tired from being on a plane so long? You would like a nap before we talk then, da?"

"No way! Besides, in Soviet Russia, sleep beds on... uh... naps sleep you! Or... um..." Alright that was sounded weird even to the guy saying it. "Alright whatever! Everything is backwards in Russia and let's leave it at that!"

Now Russia's eyes darkened and he shook slightly, a steady stream of quiet 'kols' issuing from his throat. He had been called a backwards country before and had been slowly trying to shake the label. Had he not sent a man into space before America had? Surely that alone should have stopped these sorts of insults!

"So, do you serve food in this country cause I'm starving! But it better not be commie food, cause that stuff is so gross looking! What's with that soup that looks like blood? Freaky stuff. Oh wait, you can't serve food because in Soviet Russia food serves you!"

Russia twitched. When Russia twitches, every Baltic in a 10 mile radius gives a shudder. When Lithuania felt his, he looked to the living room with the upmost alarm and went to find his fellows. It was best if they all hid, preferably outside the house; because it was getting clear that the 'sexual tension' France often referred to was coming close to a possible breaking point and if it did break then the house would likely quite literally come down around them.

Moments after this twitch, though, America stood up and stretched. Russia discreetly slipped his hand inside his coat to grip his water pipe tightly.

"You know Commie, a nap actually doesn't sound too bad. Don't worry about food!" America laughed again as he lifted his shirt. From it began raining lunch meats and chocolate as well as various candies. So many that it lay in a pile around his feet. Since America's shirt had appeared nearly skin tight on arrival and the candy had clearly not come from his over jacket, the appearance of the food was strange to say the least. Russia's grip faltered and he stared in stunned surprise.

"... do you often do that trick, America?" Russia asked with an air of childlike wonderment.

"Only when I need food that I know is awesome!" America laughed loudly, again, and grabbed a chocolate bar, swallowing it in two bites. Russia was bewildered a moment longer before chalking it up to some quirk of his nationhood, somewhat akin to his super strength and Russia's ability to dislodge his heart at times.

"HEY!" a loud, obnoxious voice rang out from the doorway to the room, "That's MY awesome word!"

"German Democratic Republic?" Russia turned to the intruder in mild surprise. "What are you doing out of the basement?"

"It's PRUSSIA damn it! And I gnawed my way through the ropes! CAUSE I'M AWESOME!" Prussia declared, followed by his usual 'kesesese' laugh. His yellow chick, Gilbird, flew in happy circles around his owner's head.

"Hmm... guess we're switching to chains then!" Russia said happily.

Prussia's jaw dropped. "Un...awesome..." he muttered and leaned on the doorframe.

"Of course those wouldn't be needed at all if you would stop teasing Lithuania..."

"Kesese, he deserved it! He's a total nerd and that maid dress is hilarious!"

Russia cocked his head to one side and smiled slightly. "Perhaps we can try it on you next, da?"

Prussia gaped. "You... you wouldn't."

"Da, I would!"

"Unawesome bastard!"

It was here that America looked up from his binge eating and looked at the albino for the first time. "Prussia! When'd you get here?"

Prussia snickered and walked over to America, grabbing a chocolate to unwrap. "Just now, and good timing, I haven't been fed decent food in ages, got any wurst with you?"

"Nope!"

"Figures."

Russia's anger had pretty much dissipated by this point and he was left deciding which bedroom he should put America in when he had finished eating. It would be a tough choice... nothing too close to his own master bedroom but nothing so far away that he couldn't quickly run over to subdue the man if he were to become unruly. Decisions, decisions.

When Russia looked toward America and Prussia again though, he noticed that although a pile of candy wrappers littered the floor the two nations (well, nation and ex-nation) were conspicuously absent. How they had vanished without the Russian's notice was anyone's guess but if you asked them they would likely have both declared the reason simply to be that they were awesome and that was that.

Luckily the two were not that difficult to find, as they had left a trail of trash throughout the house that led Russia upstairs. He did not like where they led him however, which was to his own master bedroom. He liked it even less when he opened the door to find Prussia and America jumping on his bed.

"In Soviet Russia, bed bounces on you!" America squealed as he tried to do a somersault and landed on his head. Luckily the bed was springy enough so that he was not hurt. His glasses didn't even break. For Russia it was a disappointment.

"Kesesese!" Prussia agreed and saw Russia standing in the doorway. He sobered quickly. "Damn it! How did you find us so fast? I didn't think you'd check your room in a hundred million years!"

"I followed these, da?" Russia held up a wrapper with a dark glare and Prussia swore, jumping off the bed.

"I'm out of here! Soviet Russia can't even take a joke I guess," Prussia snorted and paused in the doorway. Russia had watched him pass without comment, since he could punish him later and would not do so in front of America nor would he leave America unattended in his bedroom. "In Soviet Russia, jokes take you!" Prussia ran out of the room as Russia spun, pulling out his pipe and forgetting his rational for a moment. America's laugh snapped him out of it though and he stowed it away.

"America, get off my bed please, da?" Russia tried to be civil.

"No way! I wanted a nap remember? Why not here? Here's awesome! It's all springy! Plus since it's your room it's probably not booby trapped. So I'm staying here!"

"I will not leave you alone in my bedroom, American Pig."

America gasped. "COMMIE!"

Russia didn't really want a nuclear war. Not really. Neither did America. Not really. But damn it all they needed to do SOMETHING with all this pent up emotion they had brewing. It was only a matter of time, as France would say.

You know really, France is probably smoking crack cocaine. Seriously, America was just being annoying as hell right now and Russia was not doing well to control his temper. Nothing in this situation is the least bit sexy at all and if it leads to any sort of sexual action right now that ends the Cold War I will personally give France...

Er...

A punch in the face. Yes, in light of the fact that Russia just leapt across his mattress and shoved America down, invading his mouth with his tongue, I will definitely punch France in the face.

As Russia's mouth moved on America's stunned one, he felt a tremendous sense of release, strangely enough. It was good. He needed something like this. After a moment America also noticed that he felt rather pleased with how things were going and fought back for dominance of the kiss, using his strength to flip the two so that he was on top now. This change of position would occur a few times as they began to suddenly get rougher, grabbing, pinching, moaning, growling, and generally starting off the greatest round of odd hate sex the world had ever known.

They didn't even notice when Lithuania opened the door slightly to see how bad the 'war' was now that he'd heard from Prussia the two were in a closed off space together. When Lithuania saw them in full swing he was sensible enough to shut the door and run. Not so for Prussia who heard the news, went to see, and then immediately took multiple pictures he knew he would be able to sell to Japan and Hungary for beer money. Always a good thing.

Eventually the two were left exhausted of all resources so to speak and were left lying on Russia's bed, staring at the ceiling, both in disgust and shock over what they had just finished doing. Both had managed to top the other at least once. Both had come multiple times. Neither could call it a rape of any kind, it was definitely consensual. A horrifying concept. Still, there was still that sense of release and relief underneath revulsion. It felt good.

Then America giggled and said, "In Soviet Russia, orgasm has YOU!" Clearly he would never understand how this joke was supposed to work.

Russia looked at America and noticed a small smile tugging at his lips, perhaps a force of habit. "America..."

America looked back at Russia with a tired grin, likely also a force of habit. "Yeah, Commie?"

"Get out of my bedroom."

The Cold War would continue for many years after this incident. France was wrong, sexual tension was not the reason for it and hate sex did nothing to solve the problem. I'm still going to punch him in the face though.

**THE END**

_((Joyful Note: I know it's late, I got woefully stuck and then a bunch of random things happened on my end. Crazy things. But it's not THAT late considering that I usually take months to update these days. Now then. This story. Cracky yes. Poorly done? Maybe a little. Rushed? Hells yeah, it's a one shot and the RussiaXAmerica pairing is hard to pull off in a one shot unless it's already established that they're dating in it. Adding the cold war in only makes it harder. But it was a crack fic, so that made it much easier. I DON'T KNOW. So, invisiblecanada, I hope you are at least somewhat satisfied. If not... well I can't say I blame you... but it was YOUR prompt that led to this story whatever the outcome... so feel free to blame yourself! I'm so mean... *sigh* Sorry for that, I'm a mean, mean person. Whatever.))_


End file.
